


Just Call Me Angel Of the Morning

by TashaElizabeth



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-15
Updated: 2009-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashaElizabeth/pseuds/TashaElizabeth





	Just Call Me Angel Of the Morning

In an ill lit, hazy, back corner memory of Ianto's mind, his mother sat down on the edge of his bed. Her weight was a comforting pressure, depressing the springs. Ianto was small, thin wrists and long lashes. He woke with her cool hand on his sweaty forehead.

"Ianto," she said softly, "Wake up, my darling."

He mumbled, "Uh huh," rolling over onto his back. She was wearing her work clothes, her coat and heels.

She pressed the back of her hand against his cheek and smiled.

"Your fevers broken," she said. "Do you feel better?"

"Uh huh."

He took up a handful of her coat and she put her hand on his chest and rubbed small circles on his shirt, pausing now and then to stroke back his hair.

"I have to go now," she said, after a moment, "but Kathy is downstairs."

Kathy was a twenty-five year old neighbor who smelled comfortingly of cigarettes.

"Uh huh."

She leaned down and he sat up to embrace her, senses onslaught by the smell of her perfume.

"I love you, angel," she said and then she was gone.

-

In the red predawn of Ianto's apartment, Jack was getting dressed. Ianto could hear him, moving in the dark, stepping on a squeaky floorboard, bumping into a wall.

Last night they'd grabbed each other like old lovers, stumbling across town without letting go. Last night they'd stripped each other bare and came with their foreheads pressed together, eyes unable to close.

Ianto lay on his stomach. His vision was fuzzy between his half closed eye lids. He breathed with forced languor. His shoulder blades pushed tight under his skin.

He was trying, very hard, not to expect anything.

Jack sat on the bed to put his socks on and Ianto's legs fell against him. Outside cars drove by. Rain pattered down. Ianto' breath came calm and still.

Jack put a hand on Ianto's sheet covered thigh, stroking up, until his hand came to rest in the small of Ianto's back.

He didn't say anything.

Then he left.


End file.
